


Someone to Watch Over Me

by cschoolgirl



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: AU, F/M, Smut, shipper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-08-13 12:20:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7976647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cschoolgirl/pseuds/cschoolgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different take on how Wolverine and Rogue met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to RogueLotus for all of her help.

It had been some time since they had any new recruits. Even longer since Wolverine had been expected to train any of them. Nowadays they came to the X-Men with a few fights under their belts.

He glanced into the med bay where Hank was taking the kid's vitals, then back to Scott. The younger man was pinching the bridge of his nose. Clearly he didn't want to have this conversation.

"Look, Wolverine, I don't know how long it will take, but I'm placing her under your care. You don't have to do anything with her, besides keep her safe for a while until we straighten it out." Scott had aged the last few years trying to keep this operation going, scrambling to hold on to Xavier's dream.

The school was pretty much a thing of the past. The struggle now was to help the mutant population survive. The world had gone to hell in a hand basket. The government no longer cared who you were as long as you stayed out of their business. That left groups like the X-Men to pick up the slack of stopping those who were abusing mutants.

"Alright, where is she supposed to room?" It would put a crimp into his routine, but he could handle the change.

Scott looked embarrassed for a moment. "We're full up." He made a move to put a hand on Wolverine's shoulder, then stopped. "Anyway, I'm sure you'll make do."

Wolverine was the last hold out for a one-person room. The lower levels had long ago been converted to living quarters when the mansion was damaged beyond repair. He'd cleaned out the original janitor's closet, turned storage room, into his space. It didn't offer much, but there was space for a bed and a small sofa. Best of all it was down past the storage rooms, away from everyone else.

He growled at Scott, who only smirked and walked away. It felt like a set up, but until Wolverine could determine the real reason he'd have to play along.

"Grab your stuff." The girl looked up in surprise and Hank gave her a reassuring smile.

Wolverine didn't wait for her. Her first lesson in dealing with him. Scott had said he only had to keep an eye on her, but that wasn't his way. She would learn to earn her keep around here, one way or another. And if she couldn't fight, he'd teach her.

He stopped outside one of the storage rooms. Just as he suspected, she'd arrived with nothing.

Rogue gave the tall man with the wild hair a tentative smile. He was definitely the most intimidating of them all these X-Men. Not even the blue, furry Hank with is prominent canines inspired this kind of menace.

The man with the red glasses had explained that she would be under Wolverine's care for a while. Hank had assured her that Wolverine was an honorable man and not to let his glare scare her. 

She had studied Wolverine from behind on the way over. He was a very muscular man and she was sure his demeanor alone struck fear into the heart of many. However the fact that Hank and the other man had no concerns about leaving a teenage girl in his care spoke volumes of a different kind.

Wolverine cocked his head at an angle. Frowning, he asked, "When was the last time you ate?"

"You heard that?" Rogue stared at him in amazement. Her stomach had barely rumbled, it tended not to complain too much since it had learned that food was scarce. "Is that your mutation? That is so cool. What else can you hear?"

God help him, if this one was a talker like Jubilee he was in trouble. One Jubilation Lee was enough for any underground facility. "I have enhanced senses and you don't want to know what else I can hear."

"Okay." On second thought being able to hear stomachs growl meant you could hear other bodily noises that might not be so interesting. 

He raised an eyebrow at her. She wanted to smile at how sexy that made him look, but tamped it down, realizing it was meant as a prompt. A sexy prompt, she mused, but still something that required an answer. "Oh, I had something this morning."

"Real food or something not too moldy out of a trashcan?"

Turning red, her eyes slid away from him. "I can't tell you the last time I saw real food."

Against his better judgment, Wolverine placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face until she looked him in the eye. "Don't ever be embarrassed by what you have to do to survive. Life ain't easy."

She felt tears well up and pushed the feeling down. Nodding, she gave him an understanding smile. He realized he'd held her chin a moment too long, when her pupils dilated and her breath hitched. Damn, she was beautiful, but was too young. Rogue had been placed in his care and he was off to a bad start.

He looked at her full lips and the way they trembled slightly as she watched him. The overwhelming urge to slide his thumb across her bottom lip hit him hard and he had to look away. Straightening back up, he made sure his schooled face of neutrality was in place. "Let's see if we can find you some clothes."

He piled her high with clothes from the crates of surplus military clothing he'd picked up last year. Grabbing a couple of army blankets, he took her to his room. Besides not eating, she hadn't bathed recently. She could rectify that while he rustled up some grub for her.

"Wow." She took in the entirety of the small room. Wolverine was obviously a neat, organized man; she didn't think she could live up to that.

"If you'd prefer…" He pointed to the door, indicating the hallway was available.

"No, no. It looks great." There was a nice big bed, but Rogue guessed that the couch was where she would be sleeping and deposited her newly acquired possessions there. 

It was the best feeling ever to be clean again, even if the only privacy she got undressing and dressing was Wolverine's back. 

"Oh my, what is that you're cooking?" She peeked around him to look in the old electrical skillet.

"Spam." He knew a lot of people that still turned their noses up at this particular food but she was almost drooling. He doubted that would be a problem.

"I don't care what it is, it smells good." She barely let it cool off enough to eat before she had a whole piece shoved in her mouth. The second piece she savored a little more and though she was eyeing a third slab he could tell she was worried there would be no food later. He grabbed a can of peaches from above the sink and opened it for her. 

"You can eat them all now, but it might be best to pace yourself so you don't get sick." She smiled up at him, her lips glistening with peach juice and he felt like a lecherous old man. "How old are you?" Not that knowing how young she was would make him feel better.

"Twenty-one," she answered between bites. He quirked an eyebrow at her. She was beginning to understand that the eyebrow meant a real answer was expected. "Nineteen later this year," she said with a sigh.

Well, maybe it did ease his mind to know she wasn't as young as she looked. 

Rogue thought about asking his age to keep the conversation flowing, however she didn't really care how old she was. Heck, she didn't care about how old she was, she only told people she was twenty-one because it seemed to put them at ease. 

"So heightened senses, anything else?"

"Heal faster and have these." He released his claws. If they were going to be sharing a small space it was best she know. To her credit, she didn't freak out or show fear when the blades came out. Though the overt curiosity she was showing made Wolverine a little uncomfortable and he retracted them.

"I can see why you need the healing." There were other questions she wanted to ask but thought better of it. Those questions would hold until they knew each other longer. "All I got was life sucking skin."


	2. Chapter 2

"Bring me something while you're out!" Rogue yelled. She watched Wolverine disappear down the hall before stomping into the lab. Glancing at Hank, she flopped down in one of the chairs, pouting.

Hank didn't look up, but she could see the little smile he didn't bother to hide. It reminded her of the smile her parents gave her when she was a child and they thought she was being unreasonable. She was not a child anymore and she didn't like Wolverine and Hank treating her as such.

"Don't need a babysitter." She tried to glare at Hank, but it was too hard. He was always nice to her and despite what she'd been thinking had never treated her like a child.

Finally, she walked over to see what he was doing and if he needed help. It would be hours before Wolverine returned. She preferred to keep busy and Hank was always doing something interesting.

"Where does Wolverine go every week?" she asked after a while. Without fail, once a week Wolverine dumped her off at Hank's lab to stay while he went out. She knew the reason she stayed with Hank was for protection. 

It seemed odd to her that she'd been with the X-Men a whole month and they still didn't know what she needed protecting from. She didn't need any extra protection when she was on her own. Ms. Frost assured her that she was just hard to read, but given time people would have found her. It was all vague and based on rumors.

Not that Rogue would complain. She had three hots and a couch and got along with a couple of the women her age. In trade, she did chores and trained with Wolverine.

"That is a conversation best had with Wolverine." Good old Hank, always directing you back to the source.

"I tried," she whined. "He was all, you're staying with Hank and that's that." She felt the anger rise up again.

"Did you approach the conversation like an adult or a petulant child?" he asked. That smile had returned and he glanced at her over the top of his glasses.

Sighing heavily, she thought it over. There had been no tantrum like a two-year-old, but she'd demanded to go with him. That, in turn, caused Wolverine to ignore her and she'd shut down the conversation before it could even begin.

Rogue had assumed he went out drinking and having a good time. Even if he was, she had no right demanding anything of him. He'd taken her in and made a place for her in his life. He treated her well and she'd repaid him poorly. Leaving her with Hank was the one thing he needed her to do without throwing a fit.

The more she thought about it, the less likely it was that Wolverine was out partying. He wasn't some young idiot out to have a good time. If he wanted a drink he wouldn't leave at all. There was some other reason he went out and it wasn't about having a good time.

What bothered Rogue more is how easily she had fallen into acting like her mother. Her father had gone out once a week with his buddies. The house was always filled with arguing before he left for the night. Her parent's way of handling problems had landed her on the street. There was no reason to perpetuate their faults by casting Wolverine and herself in their roles.

* * *

Familiar footsteps echoing down the hall woke Rogue from her light sleep. She quickly got up and straightened her shirt checking to make sure she didn't have drool on her face. Hank was still at one of the work surfaces completely immersed in a project.

Putting on a smile she waited for Wolverine in the doorway. She was glad he was back; she could now go to sleep in their room. There was something else, a feeling she couldn't identify and it only manifested itself when he was around. Belonging was the closest she could get, or maybe comfort was the word, comfort that came from being accepted. 

She had her apology ready; instead, she caught a bundle Wolverine threw at her. Unfolding it she was surprised by an old green, wool army trench coat. She slipped it on. It was late summer and way too warm, but the coat fit right and would be perfect for the winter. She was a little embarrassed because she hadn't really expected him to bring her anything. Especially after the way she delivered the 'request'.

Wolverine stopped long enough to toss Hank a small box. "Thanks for watching the kid."

Hank's eyes widened. "Where did you get these?"

"Rex got a shipment of them by mistake. Make me fight an extra bout for the last box." Wolverine glanced over at Rogue. The extra round had been worth it if her smile was anything to go by. "Don't eat'em all at once," he commented to Hank.

"No, indeed I will not."

Rogue followed Wolverine out of the lab as Hank carefully opened his box of Twinkies.

"Thanks," she said still admiring the coat. "Nobody's ever…" she trailed off. Her parents had always made it sound like a burden when she needed new clothes. They would never have thought to get her anything before she needed it. 

"Don't mention it." Wolverine didn't know what young women liked, but when he saw the coat it seemed like something she could use.

"I'm sorry…about earlier." He grunted in acceptance of her apology. "Where do you go every Friday?" The one thing she hadn't tried was being straightforward about the whole business. Or like an adult as Hank put it.

"Old buddy runs some fights." They hadn't talked about his Friday night gig. He was the house fighter at Rex's place. It was his way of earning his keep.

Rogue thought about it. The old military coat, the wool blankets, and other surplus supplies. She even knew Peter and a couple of others went to a Rex for supplies every week.

"You must do well to keep us all clothed and fed."

"I do fine, but not near enough to keep this place running." It was enough to supply some basics and the occasional hard to find parts. The rest was up to Scott and Emma and whatever financial dealings they did.

"How many fights did you have tonight?" She knew he was gone several hours and wondered what kind of toll that put on his healing factor.

"I usually do eight or so. Not many last more than ten or fifteen minutes. Tonight I did an extra round." He closed the door to their room and sat heavily down on the bed.

"The round for Hank's Twinkies," she mused out loud. She hung her coat on one of the hooks behind the door. Examining it closer, she realized that is was in excellent condition. That extra round wasn't just for a box of sponge cakes; he'd fought for her coat too.

"You must be exhausted." Not that anyone would notice, Wolverine always seemed to be unchanged by …well anything. 

He shrugged. "Healing factor," he said, before lying back on the bed.

"But still…" It wasn't her place to comment on his state of mind. Looking over at him, she decided she could at least do something practical for him. She bent down and began to unlace his boots.

"I'll get'em later," he said sleepily.

Ignoring him, she continued, taking care of his boots and socks like she'd seen him do. Rogue glanced at him, twitching slightly as he fell asleep. Maybe she should pull the blanket over him or something before she lay down.

He looked so peaceful right now. No one would guess he spent his evening being knocked around to keep them all a float. He was the gruff loner who had made room for them all in his life. She owed him so much for the past month of comfortable living.

On impulse, Rogue grabbed the old plastic dishpan from under the sink and filled it with warm soapy water. She placed it at the end of the bed then filled another container with clean water and taking a towel kneeled down by his feet. She remembered her granny washing granpappy's feet after a day in the field. It always seemed like such a nice thing to do for someone, a way to show your appreciation for all they did during the day.

Wolverine's eyes popped open and he was wide-awake. "Rogue?"

"Is the water too cold?" Her voice was as soft and soothing as her hands on his feet. 

"No…you don't…" He didn't really want her to stop. He should tell her no because it oddly felt like he was taking advantage of her.

"Shh, Sugar, just relax," she cooed, sweet and low. He knew it was meant to calm like a mother would a child, but that was not the effect she was having on him. 

The ceiling was suddenly very interesting as he tried to think about everything besides what Rogue was doing. The way her hands skimmed over his feet and how glad he was that she stopped at his ankles. There was a tension building in his body at the thought of her soft hands moving along the rest of him in the same manner. He had to bite the inside of his cheek so the pain would chase away the rising desire.

It had been so long since he'd felt this way toward anyone. Having her under his protection had sparked something in him. The way she watched him and how eager she was to please him during training sessions, struck at his heart. He'd tried to put it down to familial feelings, but with this, he could no longer fool himself. 

Wolverine watched her from under heavily hooded eyes as she put everything away. He concentrated on his breathing, keeping it even, letting her believe nothing had changed. She turned off the lamp and lay down on the couch to sleep. He knew his own sleep would not be peaceful, but instead filled with dreams of her.


	3. Chapter 3

"Harder!" A low command. "Grip it harder." Rogue looked into his face, he was dead set on this course of action. "Push!"

Her concentration slipped and Wolverine went down on one knee. He was breathing hard but hadn't loosened his hold on her.

"Oh no! I'm sorry. Are you okay?" She asked as she let go of his arm. He looked up and she could see the disappointment in his eyes.

"Don't ever be sorry," he growled. Her gaze traveled further down to where his fist lay flush with her sternum. The perfect angle to stab her with his claws. 

With a heavy sigh she admitted defeat, "Can we take a break?" Training wasn't finished for the day and he gave her a withering look. But she'd learned a thing or two in the month or so with Wolverine. "Top side?"

This time, he rolled his eyes in defeat.

Of all the lessons, intentional and unintentional, Wolverine taught her this had been the easiest to pick up on. Going topside for a beer was one of the few things he did every day. If the day had been particularly long, the beer came at the end of the day with a cigar.

They'd stop by the room, pick up a beer and climb the old ventilation shaft. It was a short distance up the rungs to the wooded area above. This afternoon, they would find a sunny place to rest before Wolverine declared she was making him soft and training resumed.

Jiu-jitsu, randori, countless martial arts, even good old fashioned grappling, all swirled in her head. All necessary, important lessons; he assured her. He wouldn't always be there for her to rely on.

The hardest lesson for her to master came the second morning. Lack of privacy, not that she would get much more down the hall with the others. She'd hedge her bets that she was safer with one Wolverine than a dozen or more females. 

At first, it had embarrassed her. Wolverine would undress and dress right out in the open and she'd quickly learned in the mornings to face the back of the couch.

Now though she was comfortable enough to be in her underwear in their room with him present. Not that she paraded around in front of him, but long enough to make it to the shower stall. After showering she would towel off and put on clean undergarments before pulling back the curtain to finish dressing in the room itself.

After a few weeks, she quit rolling over when Wolverine got up in the morning for his shower. Closing her eyes was good enough. She'd tried pulling the blanket over her head, but that was harder to see through.

Who was she kidding? There were some mornings she kept her eyes open. He was a fine example of the male physique and she was a nineteen-year-old, of course, she looked. Their eyes met occasionally, but he'd continue on as if nothing was different. He would not take advantage of her, no matter how badly she wanted him to.

Leaning back against the old rock wall she sighed contently. Her life had taken a turn for the better when the X-Men found her. The second Great Depression had quickly rolled into a third depression, and trying to keep out of danger and put food in her mouth had become too big of a struggle. She'd been ready to walk back into that free clinic her parents left her at to trade the last of her dignity for a meal and a place to sleep. 

The most she had to worry about here was a bruise from training or a few extra memories to sort out in her head from the slip of her mutation earlier. The day was cool and quiet, a perfect time to examine what little she'd absorbed. It never hurt to have a few extra fighting techniques in her bag of tricks.

"Who's Jean?"

Wolverine paused, bottle held to his lips, before taking a large gulp of beer. "Cyke's wife." When Rogue had said her mutation was absorption, he'd thought she meant other mutations. Probably should have clarified that earlier. "Get memories too?"

Nodding, she asked, "What happened to her?"

"I killed her." It was a flat admission with a hint of regret linked to it. 

They didn't normally talk about what came before she arrived. The past was the past, or so Wolverine had told her. Learn from it and leave it there. But how could she learn if she didn't question things?

"An accident?" 

"Nope. Skewered her through the heart." He took another swig of his beer, resting the bottle on his knee.

Rogue thought about their earlier training session and how it had ended. She couldn't imagine him purposely killing Scott's wife. Scott was a good man, Wolverine hadn't come right out and admitted it, but he more or less said so. She didn't think Scott would pick a wife that needed to be killed.

Again she thought of this morning, trying to put a vague memory of this Jean in her place at the end of his blades. Rogue turned to him, brow wrinkled in a question she didn't know how to ask. Or if she should even ask.

Wolverine never thought he'd be in a situation where he'd want to explain this piece of his past to anyone. Yet this girl…young woman had lodged herself somewhere in his heart and he continually found himself wanting to explain things to her. He had teased her that she was making him soft, but it was true, at least it was true where she was concerned.

Pointing a finger to the rubble that was the remnants of Xavier's School, he cleared his throat. "She was a friend, a teammate. A little over five years ago she started having problems with her telepathy." He shrugged. "She was possessed by some force. Xavier tried to help, but in the end, neither of them were a match for the force. It killed him and was tearing the mansion apart when Scott finally got through to Jean."

Wolverine paused, looking at his hands and released the claws on one hand to push back the memory. "She said there was only one way to end it."

Rogue watched him retract the blades, the same disappointment on his face from earlier during training. Closing her eyes she could now visualize it all from his memories. 

Ms. Frost off to the side, shining like a diamond, checking on an unconscious Scott. Wolverine, approaching the beautiful Jean Grey, his flesh burning away from the forces' fiery onslaught. Pieces of the mansion flying around as students and staff fled.

Jean should have been tougher. She should have been able to control it. Wolverine didn't want that kind of death for Jean, didn't want Rogue to end up like that either. He drank the last of his beer. There was still time, Rogue was young and eager to learn. Even though he wouldn't tell her, she was the quickest study he'd ever had.

Rogue stood up and brushed off her bottom. She understood why he wanted to leave the past where it was, but she'd also learned why he pushed her so hard. 

"Come on. You're going soft on me." She offered her hand to him. "We better get back to training before you go all sentimental too."

Wolverine snorted at her suggestion and took her proffered hand.


	4. Chapter 4

"What the hell have you been teaching her?" Scott bellowed at Wolverine as he walked in the infirmary.

Wolverine walked over to Rogue where she was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, sulking. Placing a finger under her chin, he lifted her head, pushing the hair out of her face as he did so. She had a split lip and the making of a shiner.

"Anything else?" he asked her. Rogue looked him in the eye and shook her head no.

"Anything else?" Scott said barely containing his anger.

Wolverine quietly turned, giving his full attention to the younger man. "What happened?" 

"She beat up three of the other girls." Scott pointed to the young women that Wolverine recognized as the Cuckoos. "Celeste has bruised ribs, Mindee has a concussion, and Phoebe may have a broken arm."

"You have a serious problem," Wolverine said with a steely voice.

Scott's brow furrowed. "How do you figure this is my problem?"

"I see three capable women, who have been on missions; getting their asses handed to them by one wisp of a girl with barely two months of training." Wolverine put a finger on Scott's chest. "I think you're letting them get soft."

Scott knocked away Wolverine's finger and opened his mouth to say something and just as quickly shut it. He turned to look at the injured women and then at Rogue. "What are you going to do about her?" Scott asked, some of his steam gone.

"She's mine. I'll deal with her." Wolverine signaled to Rogue to follow him.

Wolverine's words weren't lost on Rogue. She knew Wolverine meant she was his problem or something along those lines. But the way he said it, the hint of possessiveness the others in the room didn't pick up on. It meant that she wasn't just some "kid" he was taking care of. He knew there was more to their relationship than what met the eye. Even if he wouldn't admit it, she wasn't imagining it.

When they got back to the privacy of their room, she started to apologize. "I'll do better next time. I wasn't expecting that mental thing they do-"

Wolverine cut her off. "There won't be a next time."

Rogue panicked. She had been positive that Wolverine cared for her and wouldn't let her be kicked out over one fight. Then again she'd only been with them three months.

With a sigh, Wolverine handed her an ice pack, usually reserved for tough training days. "The Cuckoos are the mean high school girls." Rogue nodded, putting the cold pack on her eye. "They finally turned their attention on you."

"No," she said carefully. "It only took two days for them to turn on me. I'm used to it, but today they were bad mouthing you."

He lifted an eyebrow; he didn't think that would be a reason that would set Rogue off. Well, he could see it. He closed his eyes. They weren't going down that road today.

"Rogue, I'm not worth you getting beat up for." Even as he said it he could see her formulating a rebuttal. "Unless someone is trying to hurt you, no fighting here."

She let the argument die. He was wrong, he was worth fighting over. He was worth more than all three of those girls put together. Yet, if he didn't want her fighting, she wouldn't. Not here, but only because he asked her.

"It wasn't really a fight anyway," she stated. "You've given me more bruises in training." 

There was a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. She knew Wolverine wouldn't bring it up, but that hint of possession flickered across his face for a second. He could deny it all he wanted, they both knew they were headed for a different kind of relationship.


	5. Chapter 5

Rogue stepped closer to the bed. A little over three months she'd been sleeping on the sofa and this was the first time she'd heard him dreaming. Dreaming was too nice of a word, he was clearly having a nightmare. Hesitating, she thought about laying back down, but it was obvious to her that he was in distress.

Wolverine was always in control. He had perfected a face of stone that rarely slipped. The only time since she'd arrived that she'd seen anything different was when she mastered a technique he'd been showing her. One corner of his mouth lifted as if he were going to smile. There was also the time he'd taken pleasure in a glass of scotch, she'd seen it in his eyes that time.

A pained sound spurred her on. "Wolverine?" 

He twisted, grunting as he did so. The sheets had fallen away from his bare chest. She could see the sweat beaded up on his skin. Reaching out a hand, she gently touched his shoulder.

She thought a light touch might wake him. Maybe say his name again and he'd open his eyes. Instead, he suddenly he sprang up with a roar, a metallic snikt rang through the air, followed by a piercing pain in her chest. She looked down and realized that she was impaled on his claws. Rogue was surprised how warm they felt and how easily they slid through her flesh.

He was wide awake now, eyes riveted to his fist flush against her breast. She felt him flex and the blades slid out of her just as easily. The Wolverine's stone face crumbled. Breathing was impossible, she could only make a gurgling noise. The look of horror on his faced scared her and she wanted to comfort him with a touch.

Wolverine was frozen in place. If he called out, no one would hear, he'd purposely chose this room for that reason. If he ran for Hank, the girl would be dead before he returned. Rogue was the first person … woman, he'd let in to his life in along time. She wasn't just any woman, he was positive he'd fallen for her and now in the same instant he was going to lose her. 

All the years of training and practicing, wars and fights, nothing had prepared him for this. Her life was slipping away and he was struck dumb, unable to move. The moment stretched out for an eternity. 

Her hand was reaching for his face, an apology in her eyes. He grabbed hold of her wrist, locking her hand to his cheek. She'd said she could absorb other's mutations. If she could use his, take it to heal herself.

The pull started as pins and needles then turned to a searing pain. He fought back the darkness closing in; watched the stab marks, where her shirt had ripped, start to heal. Her breathing eased and he fell back on the bed letting the darkness take over.

Tears. He could smell tears, feel the wetness on his chest. Rogue was huddled next to him. When he moved, she tried to scurry away, but he still had hold of her wrist.

"You okay?" he asked as the last of the fuzziness cleared from his head. When she didn't answer, he pulled her closer.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "You're a little loud up here. Big dose of you, and everything…" she waved a hand toward her nose and ears, "is too much. How do I…"

"Pick one thing and focus on it." He understood. Until she got used to the extra sensory input it was overwhelming. "How long was I out?" 

"A couple minutes, maybe." 

She was shaking like a leaf. Wolverine let go of her wrist, knowing an iron grip wasn't comforting. He'd scared the hell out of her and almost killed her; he could offer more than a couple of gruff questions.

"Come here," he said, lifting an arm in invitation.

She crept closer, cuddling up next to him with her head on his shoulder. He'd told her to pick out one thing; she now realized the steady rhythm was his heart. It set a strong, constant pace and she tried to match her own to his. The Wolverine in her head was starting to calm and she tried organizing all the thoughts and memories into some pattern that could be dealt with later.

He was so warm, she molded her body to his hoping to absorb some of the heat. Pulling the covers up on them, he moved his arm to bring her in even more securely.

Rogue relaxed into him, she knew she shouldn't; he was supposed to be watching over her. In her opinion, he was doing a damn good job and she didn't want to jeopardize her place with him. She wanted to stay with him as long they would allow her to. 

In the early days she'd admired Logan, not just physically, but for his ability to persevere and make the best of it. She wished she could be like that, she'd barely been able to survive on her own. She was willing to admit now, after having stared down her own death, that she loved him. Even though their time together had been short, she knew her feelings had been growing steadily since before he'd gotten her the coat.

When he looked at her, she saw him try to hide his feelings. As of late he'd been turning away from her, unwilling to hold her gaze. They never spoke of their feelings for each other, she didn't know if they needed to. Rogue thought that whatever changes this incident brought, they would soon fall into an easy routine without a discussion.

"We good?" he asked.

Nodding, she liked how he shifted so easily back into normal mode. The same tone of voice and words he used when she took a hard tumble or hit in training. His concern was casual, decreeing things be set right by sheer force of will.

"Can I…"

"Stay." It wasn't a command or a question, perhaps a request. Either way, she was unwilling to leave until he expressly told her to do so.

Wolverine sighed heavily, he'd probably made the most colossal mistake in his remembered life. He should have settled her back on the sofa. She'd too readily accepted the spot in bed next to him.

All the little signs were getting harder to ignore. He often felt her eyes on him, roaming his body or the hitch in her breathing when he touched her. Worst of all was the way her smell changed when he was nearby. It beckoned to him and he was growing tired of fighting the desire to possess her.

He'd grown weary and knew she could occupy his bed as long as she pleased. This could only lead to one thing and eventually she would become his lover. It was only a matter of time.


	6. Chapter 6

Scott finished filling his plate and was ready to go back to the table. He turned and almost dropped his plate. Wolverine had been standing behind him and Scott hadn't noticed. 

"Damn it," he said making sure not to slosh any of his drink from the cup. He'd forgotten how stealthy Wolverine could be; he did notice the small smirk that creased Wolverine's face. "If you have any complaints about the schedule I set up, I don't want to hear it."

"Don't think I'm the one you're gonna have to worry about complaining when it comes to combat training," Wolverine suggested.

"Self-defense," Scott corrected.

"Whatever." It was all the same to Wolverine.

Scott could feel the headache already building and combat…self-defense training hadn't even started. He didn't think the Cuckoos had ever trained with Wolverine. Maybe he could get Emma to deal with the girls' complaints.

"Then what do you need?" Scott asked moving around him. 

Wolverine fell in step with the younger man. "Update."

Puzzling over what update he wanted, it finally dawned on Scott. "The girl." Wolverine made a grunt of confirmation, but Scott thought he detected a hint of irritation. "We had a bed open up, do you want her moved?"

The question seemed to further irritate Wolverine, however he quickly answered. "Won't be necessary." He paused before asking tersely, "Any new info?"

Stopping a few feet short of his table, Scott turned to look at the other man. "Not really. The rumors are all tied to those free clinics Trask Industries run. Something about mutant DNA being compiled, but Emma says there isn't a clear purpose yet." Wolverine nodded and though Scott knew he didn't need to say it, he added. "It's probably best that she stay with you for safe keeping."

After watching Wolverine make his way across the dining hall, Scott sat down opposite Emma. Shaking his head, he mused over the emotions he thought he'd seen play across the other man's face. It had been a long time since he'd seen anything but Wolverine's carefully constructed façade.

"How long have those two been having sex?" Emma asked.

Scott looked up from his plate. "Who?" He knew Emma heard quite a bit of the rumors that spread through the facility, but she usually didn't bring any of them to him unless it would have an impact on daily life.

"Wolverine and Rogue, of course," Emma said with amusement. 

"What the…" He coughed a little realizing that it came out louder than he meant. "Who told you that?"

"No one. You'd have to be blind not to notice." She said with a righteous smile. She knew Scott could put on blinders to other people's relationships if it didn't directly affect daily operations.

Over the past couple of months, he'd seen Wolverine and the girl …Rogue, together often. It was only natural if Wolverine was keeping an eye on the girl. Rogue did sit with the other women her age at some meals and she hung out with them in the common area.

Scott watched the two as they filled their plates. Now for the first time he picked up on the little signs that could indicate intimacy. Wolverine had placed his hand at the small of her back, Rogue leaned into him, and they shared lots of brief touches.

When their plates were full they went their separate ways. Rogue to sit with Jubilee and Wolverine sat down the table from Emma and him. Scott kept a discrete eye on them. The two made eye contact several times and Scott would swear Wolverine almost smiled at one point. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Wolverine smile.

~I told you!~ Emma's voice sounded smug even in his head.

Scott turned toward her and caught her look of superiority. He sighed inwardly. ~I don't want to know,~ he shot back firmly.

He put his blinders up and concentrated on his food. What was it to him if they'd found some happiness? Despite the fact he kept calling her 'the girl' she wasn't. They were both adults. Scott had no need to keep tabs on or interfere as long as it didn't affect daily operations.


	7. Chapter 7

A week. One entire week she'd slept next to him, tangling her legs with his. Wolverine would wake up each morning wrapped around her smaller frame. His cock aching for relief, he couldn't get the shower cold enough to tame the need.

This morning had been no different. Though he'd given up on cold water and accepted the fact he would walk around all the time now with a hard on. He heard her stirring and hurried to finish before she was awake.

Too late. She pulled back the curtain and stepped into the small tiled shower stall. He glanced over his shoulder; her night shirt had been discarded and she stood behind him naked, wiping the sleep from her eyes. He turned his head away from her and leaned on the wall for support. This was not helping.

Rogue too had grown tired of the struggle. She could tell he wanted her, the way his body pressed against hers. He was trying to be noble or stoic and it would lead them nowhere but frustration. They circled each other all day long but slept like lovers without committing the act itself.

If she had any real experience she might know how to handle this. From the bit of him, she did absorb, she knew he wasn't going to make the first move. It was up to her.

She squeezed in between him and the wall. Her breasts brushing up against his chest, she felt his cock twitch on her belly. He was staring at her, daring her to break this pattern they were stuck in.

"Wolverine?" She was asking for his permission to end their stalemate. 

His eyes slid closed and the rigid set of his shoulders eased. He knew their little game was at an end, there was only one thing left for her to know. Opening his eyes, he was ready to face the inevitable. 

"Logan. My name's Logan." He was sure that after all she'd absorbed from him, she probably knew his name. But as of yet she hadn't said his name and he wanted to hear it on her lips.

Her eyes lit up. "Logan," she said with a smile. A long moment went by before she softly admitted, "Marie."

Tentatively she placed her hands on his chest, tracing the swirls of hair through the water. He watched her intently, her lips were lush and he wanted to feel them under his.

"You can kiss me," she whispered, tilting her face upward. Her eyes slipped shut and she waited breathlessly as he placed light kisses on her forehead, down the bridge of her nose to the tip. He hovered there inhaling the sweetness of her before pressing his lips to hers. 

Her lips parted for him and he explored her velvety mouth while her hands flitted about his torso. He came up for a ragged breath when her hands settled on his hardened flesh.

Kissing his jawline, she began to stroke his shaft. She could feel the tension building in his body, but didn't think her attempt was confident enough. 

"Show me how you like it," she breathed into his ear.

Logan wrapped his hand around her smaller one. Pressing her hand into his flesh for the desired grip, guiding her in a firm, long rhythm. His mouth found hers, fierce and demanding.

He hadn't expected this from her. She was wanting to pleasure him and the thought was driving him. Her small hand wasn't as rough as his own and her other hand raking down his chest, making quick work of his control.

Releasing her hand, he let her make the last few strokes. He rested his hand on her hip as he rocked into her fist, grunting when he found his release.

Marie's arousal hung heavy in the small space. A blush stole over her face and he knew she needed the same relief he'd found. He was steady enough he no longer needed the support of the wall and drew her in with an arm across her back. His other hand moved from her hip to tangle in her curls.

"Logan," was her plaintive whisper when his fingers found her clit. 

He maneuvered her so that his thigh was between her legs, widening her stance. Nibbling his way down her neck to her collar bone, he continued his ministrations. She was making small breathy noises at the back of her throat as his fingers danced along her slick folds.

She had placed her hands on his shoulders for support and her grip had tightened. Her thighs were beginning to tremble and she pushed him away. His brow was wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't trust her voice to tell him she wanted more.

His cock was once again proudly jutting out from his body. Not knowing what to say, she simply grabbed his hand and tugged him out of the shower to the bed. She pulled him down next to her, ignoring the way the sheets stuck to her wet skin.

Pushing Logan on to his back, she straddled him then lifted his cock and slowly sank down on it. Her eyes widened in surprise and he tried to remain still.

"We good?" he asked, worry evident in his voice.

"Yes." She smiled down at him. "Just feels different than I expected."

Leaning over him, she placed her hands on his chest and started to rock back and forth. He rested his hands on her hips and watched her. She was beautiful and he couldn't believe how lucky was to be with her. He wanted to tell her so, but she'd found a pleasurable rhythm and he didn't want to break the spell.

When she began to convulse around him, he guided her hips to continue. The way she was looking at him and saying his name was too much. He thrust up, spilling himself into her.

Wolverine peered at the wet mop of hair clinging to his chest. Underneath all that hair was his lover. He'd gone from reluctantly sharing his room to eagerly sharing his bed. 

"You hungry? Want me to go get something to eat?" 

Rogue picked up her head, forehead creased. "Are you offering breakfast in bed? What about training?"

Kissing her quickly, he said, "It can wait this one time."


	8. Chapter 8

"My room's down there." Rogue hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

"You sleep, down there, all alone?" Bobby asked. A smile crept onto his face. 

He'd been following her like a puppy for the two weeks since he'd arrived. She supposed she should find it flattering. He was good looking and nice, plenty of the other girls had been making goo-goo eyes at him, but she wasn't interested.

"No. I sleep with Wolverine." It was Rogue's turn to smile. Everyone danced around the subject and she was often amused by the twists and turns taken to keep from outright saying Wolverine and Rogue were having sex.

Bobby furrowed his brow. "Wolverine is your…your boyfriend."

She laughed. "There ain't nothing boy about Wolverine."

Rogue had tried to tell Bobby that she wasn't available. When he first showed up with a couple of other refugees, she'd understood the need to find someone to call a friend. She'd been in that position herself, only she'd gravitated toward the girls to show her the ropes.

Iceman, he called himself. What did she know, everyone needed something to boost their self-confidence. She wished he'd quit trying to monopolize her free time. Maybe now that he knew she was Wolverine's girl he'd stop.

Swallowing hard, Bobby's eyes darted to the open door at the end of the all. "Oh, uhm… well, I'll see you later."

"Sure." Rogue watched him walk away before turning toward her room.

Closing the door behind her, she sank down onto the couch. Logan was leaning against the wall to get better light for the piece of equipment he was working on. He blew on the piece, then rubbed a finger over the edge he'd been filing. Satisfied for the moment, he set it down on the little table that held the lamp.

"Iceprick again?" Wolverine was not happy with the new arrival's antics.

Rogue had assured him that any interest was one sided and it didn't hurt her to be nice, he'd soon lose interest and move on. Wolverine wasn't so sure about the prick's intentions. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he didn't like the guy.

She smiled at the nickname. At first, she thought it was harsh, yet as her patience with Bobby wore thin the name seemed to fit. Wolverine was a good judge of character and Bobby had raised his hackles. She'd trust Wolverine's instincts any day.

"Yeah." She looked up from taking off her shoes. "Jealous?" she teased.

He snorted at the idea, but Rogue could see the tension. Even knowing he wouldn't lose her didn't mean he liked the new guy eyeing his territory. Logan liked sex and had always been attentive to her needs, but as of late he was even more attentive.

It was the way he looked at her. She was the Wolverine's property as much as she could belong to anyone. And that suited her just fine. Nothing had been said, but she knew he loved her. In fact, now might be a good time to show him how much she did love him. Something in his demeanor, the way he was trying to be casual, said they needed the affirmation.

Standing up, Rogue pulled her t-shirt and sports bra off. Her sweats and panties were quickly discarded too. His dark eyes followed her every movement. There was desire there, but at a level she hadn't seen before. The bulge in his pants made it all the more evident he wanted her.

Sauntering over, she pressed a kiss to his lips. He was unmoved, not returning the kiss, but growling low instead. She'd learned the best way to take off the edge. As she unbuttoned his pants she began kissing her way down his t-shirt covered chest.

"No." Wolverine grabbed her wrists with a firm grip. He didn't want the edge dulled, but he needed his mate willing.

"Show me." Rogue knew from the way he held her that what he was asking for wouldn't be gentle. She hadn't seen this side of him, not in bed, and it gave her a thrill.

Pressing her thighs together, she tried to hide the surge of wetness. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with need. He walked her back to the bed and turned her so she faced away from him.

There was an almost constant low rumble emitting from his chest. He pushed her down to lean over the bed and forced her feet further apart. Her heart beat wildly in her chest with excitement. She'd glimpsed this animalistic nature in his memories, but she didn't think she would see it up close and personal. And she hadn't anticipated her wanton response to it.

The ferocity of his first thrust took her by surprise. In his uncontrolled state of arousal he continued to slam into her. Not enough to be painful, but enough to lift her up on her tiptoes.

Now she understood what she'd seen in his eyes, the tension in his body as he fought down the primal urge to claim her. The instinct to make her his and his alone. For the first time since becoming lovers, she knew Logan was not going to be considerate of her needs. 

That was okay she was a big girl and could take care of herself. Reaching down, her fingers circled her clit and she moaned. She was closer to orgasm than she thought.

Even in his frenzied state, Logan could smell the want rolling off her in waves. He fought to control his movements, giving her the time she needed. It was a losing battle as her warmth and softness only inflamed the urgency that was driving him. Marie shuddered underneath him, calling his name.

Giving up the fight, he unleashed the last of his self-restraint and thrust into her wildly. Bending over her, he bit into her shoulder as he spilled his seed.

His ragged breathing tickled her ear and she stifled a giggle. He was supporting his weight with one arm as to not crush her. The other arm was low across her belly locking her to him. She found this position agreeable enough, but wanted a look at the area he'd bitten. There had been no real pain when he did it, thought she'd been in the throws of ecstasy at the time. Now it was a dull, pleasant ache.

"We good?" he asked in a husky voice when he noticed her peeking at her shoulder.

She didn't hide the giggle this time. "Yes."

He was beginning to consider the awkwardness of holding this position when she brought her hand up to touch her shoulder. Instantly he knew where that hand had been. It smelled intensely of her sweetness. He could feel the need rising again.

Rogue held her breath as she watched him take her fingers into his mouth. She could feel him growing hard, slowly rocking into her while he swirled his tongue around her fingertips. The first time had been quick and frantic, however, she wanted something different this time. Now that his primal instinct had been somewhat sated, he might allow a change of position.

Wiggling from his grasp, though he reluctantly released her, she turned on her back and pulled him further up the bed with her. She pushed his pants down and guided him back to her entrance. When he slid into the hilt, she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

She didn't mind Wolverine claiming her as his mate, but he wasn't going to do it anonymously. He was going to face her and look her in the eye when he did it.

"I love you," she whispered before pulling him down for a kiss. His tongue matched the rhythm of his hips and she almost didn't want to break the kiss.  
Tightening the grip with her legs, she stilled his movements. He growled low in his chest, the desire in his eyes was being overtaken by the dark instinctual need.

"You belong to me, Logan." The corner of his mouth lifted with that small smile of pleasure. Everything was right in the world.

This time when she released her grip, his movements were slow and deliberate. Every time he tried to turn his face away, she brought his eyes back to hers with a gentle hand on his cheek.

She was close to the edge and he still hadn't said it. She needed to hear him say it. "Tell me," she pleaded in a shaky voice.

He bent down and captured her mouth, devouring it. She couldn't hold back any longer and began to pulse around him.

She caught the hint of a smile as he ground into her, growling as he filled her. "You're mine, Marie."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Nebelwerfer24 for the hand holding on the fight scene. 
> 
> *A slight warning, if you like Bobby, you might want to stop reading.
> 
> * * *

"Hey, Hank," Rogue said, stepping into the lab and looking around. "We on our own tonight?"

Bobby had made it a habit the last couple of weeks to help out in the lab. Helping out usually consisted of lazing about, asking questions, and in general being a nuisance. Rogue was starting to resent Bobby's presences. Her time with Hank was spent learning, probably the closest she would ever come to any type of higher education. 

Hank let her help with experiments and discussed results and scientific problems with her like she was a colleague. Not that she would ever be at Hank's level of understanding. She was sure half the time he was only talking through his thought process, but it was nice to be learning different things from what Logan taught her.

Bobby put a damper on that. Always asking questions about the most inane things. And in the middle of a discussion to boot. She was fully on board with Logan's assessment and had begun to steer clear of Bobby whenever possible. 

"Our lackluster assistant has as yet to make an appearance," Hank stated looking over the rim of his glasses, giving her a sympathetic smile. "We might be in for a tranquil evening."

"Good, I was hoping to run a test tonight."

"Hmm." There was amusement in Hank's tone. "What hypothesis are you trying to test?"

Rogue knew her tests and experiments were child's play compared to what he did. After many hours in the lab, they both recognized that she was more suited to helping him assemble his contraptions. Yet, he always indulged her, happy to foster her scientific curiosity.

"Wolverine's been insisting that my scent changed and..." she paused, trying to explain it properly. 

"It did. Several weeks back," Hank interrupted her thoughts, not looking up from the microscope. Even though his senses weren't on Wolverine's level, he still picked up on far more than most. 

"Oh." Now she really was at a loss for words. She and Logan had been sexually active, very active, but children had been the furthest thing from her mind.

Hank sat up, ignoring his work for the first time. "Is your cycle regular?"

"Never has been," she replied, turning away, cheeks flushed. She better get used to these conversations, there would be more in the near future.

"Experiencing any nausea?"

"Uhm..." She's pretty sure meatloaf from supper didn't count, meatloaf had never been on her list of good foods. "I don't think so."

Hank returned his attention to the microscope. "I'll be finished momentarily. Then we'll do a blood test, it will be more accurate early on." 

"Sounds good," she said, letting Hank complete his work without further interruption. 

Rogue set about the task she had started several days earlier of updating the supply closet inventory sheet. There would be time later to daydream about possibilities. She and Logan would also need to have a serious conversation about raising a child in the underground facility.

A few minutes later she heard Bobby enter the lab and start up one of his usual talks. She wondered if she could hide out in the closet all night until Logan returned. Immediately she felt guilty for leaving Hank alone to deal with Bobby.

Noting down the level of the glycerine on the clipboard, Rogue became suspicious at the sudden silence from the lab, followed by the skid of a chair on tile and a thud. She'd spent enough time in the Danger Room to know the sound of a body hitting the floor. 

Stepping from the storage closet, she came face to face with Bobby. Hank's blue form lay on the floor beyond the lab table, Bobby dropped an empty syringe and pulled a second one from a pouch on his belt. He smiled that charming smile that made some of the girls sigh. 

"Hey, Rogue, I'm kinda tight on time here. If you cooperate no one will get hurt." He was still smiling like he'd just asked her to sit by him at supper.

Of all the sneaky, low-life things to do, taking Hank out like that. She had no idea what Bobby's plan was, but she wasn't keen on finding out. Without returning his smile, she threw the large brown bottle of liquid at his head.

Bobby raised his hands to deflect the bottle, it fell to the floor and shattered with a loud crash. She took two quick steps to catapult herself up, sliding across the lab table and kick him in the chest with both feet. He staggered back and dropped the syringe, trying to keep from slipping in the liquid from the broken bottle. 

Rogue spared a glance at Hank. His chest rose and fell, at least he was still breathing. "What did you give him?" she demanded.

Bobby shrugged carelessly. "Don't know. They told me someone his size would be out for hours." He then raised his hands up in fists like they were in a boxing ring.

She smiled politely as she imagined giving him a roundhouse kick full of combat boot upside his pretty face. However, Logan taught her better than to open too strong when she didn't know her opponents abilities. Letting him advance and throw a couple of fake blows, showed her that as with everything else he was mostly bluster.

Watch here, it's all in the chest, Logan had told her more than once. Sure enough, Bobby telegraphed his thoughts and pulled a classic left jab followed by a right cross. She evaded the first and stepped outside the second punch, driving her fist into his stomach then a downward kick to the front leg holding all his weight. With a gasp of pain, he fell down on his knees.

Rogue knew she didn't have much time before he recovered and she didn't want to play games. If she could render him unconscious, she could get help and let Ms. Frost find out who "they" were and get Hank some medical attention. 

Think, girl, think. Use what you have. If only she had one of the weapons Logan was training her with. Or...she whipped off the cloth headband that held back her hair. It would have to do. 

Bobby was taller and heavier than her but she was used to training with Wolverine who was even taller and heavier; she knew she could handle this. She used his leg as a step, then advanced further up to loop the headband around his neck. Pushing off, she twisted her body and flipped over to tighten the fabric around his neck. 

She was glad he had enough sense to flow with her, she only wanted him knocked out, not dead from a snapped neck. They landed with him face down and Rogue kneeling on his back, cinching up the headband. He was gasping for breath when she felt the temperature drop. He was turning to solid ice beneath her and she could no longer tighten the material to render him unconscious.

Rogue felt him shift as he reached back to throw her off. She rolled away, landing behind one of the equipment carts. Logan had been taking it too easy on her lately, she was already fatigued. She closed her eyes focusing, there was a reason for that and if he and Hank were right she needed to come up with a less physical plan. 

Peeking around the edge of the cart she saw Bobby stand up completely formed of ice like a sculpture. He began to walk toward her position and she pushed the cart at him, hoping it would give her a few extra seconds to make it to the entrance of the lab. She wasn't sure she could take him without using her mutation and she didn't know what that might do to a developing mind. No, she wouldn't take that chance. It would be best to retreat and get help.

Timing it close, she sprinted for the door only to have the floor underneath her feet turn to a sheet of ice. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bobby using more ice to send the cart careening in the opposite direction. At the same time, the ice began to grow upward and block the doorway. 

Using the ice to her advantage she grabbed the edge of a lab table, swung around and propelled herself toward the lab's blast room. Bobby changed direction in pursuit, vaulting over a table on a ramp of ice. Rogue twisted again, her trajectory altered slightly and she slammed the blast door button, ripping it from the wall as she went by. 

She skated through the opening, going low to slide under the rapidly descending door. The ice that formed on the threshold to keep the door open shattered, sputtering across the floor in all directions. Standing up, she peered back out the small window to where Bobby was beating the switch box trying to force the door to work. 

The blast door should keep her safe for quite some time, all she had to do was to out wait him. He would exhaust himself trying to freeze the door. Besides Logan would be back before Iceprick ever made his way into the room. 

He was coming to the same conclusion and she merely shrugged in amusement as he narrowed his eyes at her. Then like a child, he began to throw a tantrum complete with objects being hurled around. It was only due to the fact that lab was isolated from the rest of the facility that no one had been drawn to the commotion yet. 

At last, Bobby's anger seemed to have slackened and he looked around the room in frustration. After a minute he calmly walked over to Hank's prone form and kicked him until Hank was flat on his back. Rogue watched in dismay as Bobby formed a spear of ice from his hand and held it to Hank's chest. 

Bobby looked at her with raised eyebrows, questioning her ability to wait him out. He glanced back at Hank and extended the spear point further until blood welled up on Hank's chest. She only hesitated a second before opening the blast door.

No matter what Bobby thought, Logan would find her. There was no doubt in her mind of that. And then there would be hell to pay.

* * *

They were already about a mile away in the forest and Bobby took no notice as Rogue shuffled her feet and broke branches leaving a trail anyone at the facility could follow. He'd used zip tie cuffs to bind her hands in front of her. Now he just seemed to be blindly traipsing around the woods. 

When he'd cuffed her, she'd studied the plastic and knew that given a few minutes she could have them off. The control collar was another story. It would take a little more time and examination. What she wouldn't give for an adamantium claw to slice through it...and another item she thought eyeing Bobby. 

His whole plan appeared to be to walk with no idea where they were headed. They'd changed directions several times because he'd lost his way. He kept looking around for a marker of some sort. 

"You don't have to do this." When she got him talking he slowed his pace even further. 

"Yes, I do." He looked behind them before continuing on. "They want you and not me. That's all I need to know."

"If we go back, Mr. Summers will help-"

Bobby cut her off, "What? So I can live in a hole in the ground. No way." He paused, then pulled her to the right where a light had flickered. "You're my ticket to the good life."

Rogue saw the others, two of them to be exact, flanking them on both sides. Bobby was completely unaware of their presence but was finally sure of the course he was on. They entered a clearing occupied by three armed men. In the distance, she could make out a helicopter. This had gone from bad to worse. 

She wanted to tell Bobby that he was in over his head and didn't understand the situation. These men weren't here to give him anything. Though she doubted he would take her word for it.

A flashlight was shined in her face and the lead man signaled to the two that had come up behind her. Bobby let them take her. He waited impatiently, looking at the man with the flashlight expectantly. 

Only when the little group turned to leave, forcing Rogue to walk with them, did Bobby speak up. "Hey, what about me?"

"We don't need you," the leader said over his shoulder.

"Trask promised me money," Bobby yelled, the agitation clear in his voice. He was making a fool of himself and Rogue wanted to tell him to shut up, to leave well enough alone. 

Bobby began to angrily stomp after them. The leader of the group didn't even stop. "Ross, give him what is owed him."

Rogue saw a cruel smile curve Ross's lips. She didn't need to watch to understand what Bobby's part in all of this got him. She had more important things to worry about as she was marched toward the helicopter. 

A single shot, muted by a silencer, didn't even cause her to flinch. Her own survival and that of her child were occupying her thoughts now. Rogue's only goal was to stay alive until Logan came for them.


End file.
